


give me just one look

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: ALLEGEDLY AT LEAST, Breaking the Bed, Graduation, Groping, Jealousy, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Platonic Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few different Matt/Foggy fills from a Tumblr meme about PWP tropes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. things going wrong during sex that lead to laughter

**Author's Note:**

> so, I've been writing lots and lots of little fics in response to meme prompts on tumblr, and this is one of those things. You can read the other ones [at this tag](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com/tagged/mattfoggy), and there's like five more pwp prompts forthcoming. STOP LETTING ME REBLOG WRITING MEMES.
> 
> (ETA: I'm going to post a few of them as chapters to this fic because I like 'em)

It’s just that their hug after the ceremony is a little too long.

It’s just that Foggy’s hands won’t stop shaking and Matt’s smile is constant and a little manic and they’re both sweaty because, yeah, polyester robes and New York at the cusp of summer and, also, that hug. It was lingering. Foggy thinks it might have lingered a little more if his entire family hadn’t descended upon them in a flurry of congratulations.

Underneath the joy and the exhaustion and the heady new chapter of life kind of terror, Foggy’s pretty curious about the lingering.

When they make it back to the dorm for their last night there, Matt’s still smiling and Foggy’s still shaking and then he says, “I can’t believe you didn’t try to get laid tonight, I saw four entire girls trying to get your attention.”

“Three at most,” Matt says, leaning against their door and grinning, arms folded over his chest.

“It was six and you know it,” Foggy says.

Matt laughs, falters visibly for a second before he says, “Well, what about you—no last hurrah with Marci?”

“She’s busy with her doting cabal of younger men,” Foggy says. “Probably having a weird orgy to mourn her leaving.”

“Oh,” Matt says. “So, it’s just us.”

“Full circle,” Foggy replies. His voice goes kind of weird, and Matt raises his eyebrows, takes his glasses off and slips them into his pocket.

“Yeah,” he says, softly, before he pushes off the door to step forward. Foggy steps forward, too, because it seems to be the thing to do and because Matt reaches out to wrap fingers around his arm when he gets close enough.

“We survived,” Foggy says, and Matt smiles again.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, maybe like the kind of thing you’d say to a friend before you give him an affectionate punch on the arm, but Matt’s fingers just tighten and he shuffles incrementally closer. Foggy feels just a little bit like his chest is going to burst.

“Ah, wow—okay, bring it in, Murdock,” he says, wrapping his arms around Matt so Matt laughs again and hugs him back, ducks enough to tuck his face into Foggy’s neck. They definitely linger this time, but it’s more distinctive lingering, Matt’s chest right up against his and an empty dorm and tension that crawls right up Foggy’s spine where Matt’s holding onto the fabric of his shirt.

“Foggy,” Matt murmurs, squeezing him tight before he pulls away enough that Foggy can see his face, mouth set hesitantly.

“Catch me up here, buddy,” Foggy says, and Matt opens his mouth like he’s going to say something before he clearly reconsiders it, rocking up to kiss Foggy instead.

When they break the kiss, Foggy says, “Oh, hell, that’s nice. We haven’t done that in awhile.”

There was some—stress relief stuff. Just in undergrad, a few kisses and handjobs and drunk sex that they never really talked about it. It’s been years, though, literally _years_ since he’s been able to touch Matt like this.

“Missed it,” Matt says, and Foggy agrees by pulling him into another kiss. Matt kisses back roughly now, getting fingers into Foggy’s hair.

“I thought you weren’t trying to get laid,” Foggy says.

Matt’s smirk is obnoxious and beautiful. Foggy wants to taste it.

“Never said that,” he says, walking Foggy back towards his bed until Foggy trips and falls back on it, proud of his split-second decision to drag Matt down with him. Matt lands on top of him. His knee also lands in the vicinity of Foggy’s groin.

“Shit,” he says, curling in on himself, barking out a surprised laugh.

“Oh—sorry, _sorry_ ,” Matt murmurs, shifting so he’s straddling Foggy instead, pressing kisses to his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Fine—I mean, _ow_ , but I’ll recover, come back here, kiss it better,” Foggy says, steering Matt back to laugh against his mouth.

They’re down to their underwear when Matt says, “Wait, do we have lube,” in a flat horrified voice.

Foggy goes still.

“I _packed_ it,” he hisses.

“You packed it?” Matt asks.

“I packed _everything_ ,” Foggy says. “I was so proud of myself.”

“Unpack it,” Matt says, kissing him once before he rolls off of him and sprawls on his back. Foggy makes a sad noise, poking Matt in the abs before he rolls off the bed to start ripping tape off of boxes.

“You know, you could have warned me that I was going to get lucky,” Foggy says, digging through the first box. “I would have been more prepared.”

“I thought it would be more romantic this way,” Matt says.

“Sure, real romantic,” Foggy says, tossing clothes onto the floor.

He’s on the third box when Matt starts laughing.

“We can just do something else,” he says, “because I genuinely can’t believe how long this is taking.”

“Yeah, no, you’re fucking me,” Foggy says. “We’re in this now. It’s too late to give up and play Scrabble or something.”

“I was thinking I could blow you,” Matt says.

Foggy’s about to give up and agree to that when his fingers brush over a bottle at the very bottom of a box. He makes a triumphant noise, then pulls it out and frowns.

“What was it?” Matt asks, sitting up to smile at him.

“Effin’ _moisturizer_ ,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, climbing off the bed to kneel behind Foggy and kiss his neck.

“Come back to bed,” he murmurs, close to Foggy’s ear.

“One more box,” Foggy replies.

Matt huffs and sits back to wait while Foggy keeps searching, saying, “A _ha_ ,” softly when he finally pulls out a half-full box of condoms and a bottle of lube from where they were tucked in a tangle of scarves. He turns to press them into Matt’s hands then grabs Matt’s face to kiss him once, firmly.

“Take me now, sailor,” he says, and Matt snorts before he lets Foggy pull him to his feet. They finish getting undressed before Matt shoves him back down onto the bed gently and crawls back on top of him to kiss him and kiss him until Foggy’s groaning and arching up underneath him.  

“You want something?” Matt asks, mumbled against Foggy’s cheek.

“Don’t be a tease,” Foggy says. “We’ve got to get this done soon, I’ve got to repack all my shit.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Matt says, and then he gets a hand between Foggy’s legs and everything goes kind of sideways until Foggy’s on his knees, chest pressing into the mattress as Matt pushes into him slowly.

“This is such a good graduation gift,” Foggy murmurs. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, sounding pleased.

“I mean, money, sure, I would have taken money,” Foggy says. “But a dick in the ass—also a great choice. Definitely on my wish list.”

“Just any dick?” Matt asks, smoothing a hand up Foggy’s side.

“Well, yeah, but yours will do,” Foggy says, raising his hips and moaning when Matt starts to fuck him in earnest.

“Asshole,” he laughs.

“Alright, alright,” Foggy says, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the headboard and hold on. “Your dick is the most special. It’s my—fuck, _shit,_ Matty. It’s my favorite, actually.”

Matt’s probably preening behind him, but Foggy’s focused on holding on while Matt picks up a rhythm that’s just on this side of painful, the headboard hitting the wall in a steady beat while Foggy rocks forward and takes it.

“Should we be quieter?” Matt asks, when the bed squeaks particularly loudly, and also because he’s been doing a hallelujah chorus of grunting and Foggy’s not exactly been demure.  

“Nope, no,” Foggy says, reaching backwards to gently slap his side. “Everybody in this place is either fucking or passed out drunk. Honestly, now’s the time to really go at it, Murdock, don’t hold anything back.”

Matt really takes his advice, just— _goes_ for it, over-achiever, Summa Cum Laude style. Foggy’s gasping out Matt’s name and reaching for his own dick when suddenly there’s a weird noise and then–yep, that’s the bed collapsing underneath them with a particularly horrible crash. 

They’re laying on the mattress on top of pieces of Matt’s terrible school-issue twin bedframe, Matt still buried inside of him, when Foggy starts to laugh.

“Good job,” he gasps, and Matt breaks, too, collapsing on Foggy’s back and giggling.

“You know,” Matt says, eventually, when he catches his breath again, reaching up to trace his fingers through Foggy’s hair. “This bed really had it coming.”

“Let’s break mine next,” Foggy suggests, brightly, squirming back against Matt so Matt moans.

“Yeah, okay,” Matt says.


	2. anything involving the secretive brushing of fingers on inner thighs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Murdock,” he says. “You’re _jealous_.” 
> 
> “Jealous?” Matt repeats, smiling and calmly looping his arm through Foggy’s to lead him into the alley beside Josie’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post a few more of these as chapters to this fic~*~
> 
> they're all unrelated to the others

Foggy won’t stop talking about Game of Thrones.

Which would be fine–Matt’s reasonably patient and Foggy’s colorfully narrated enough episodes to him against his will that he can sort of follow the conversation, but Foggy won’t stop talking about Game of Thrones with the guy sitting next to them at the bar at Josie’s while Matt sits there and repeatedly fails to insert himself back into the conversation.

“Dragons,” he says, once, thoughtfully and also inanely, and Foggy turns to say, “Yeah, buddy, dragons,” and then continue discussing the finer points of how exactly this season has been going down hill.

The other guy’s really into the conversation. His name is Scott and Matt hates him. Why’s Scott hanging out at a bar like Josie’s all alone? Why doesn’t he have his own friends to talk about dumb TV shows with? He’s clearly shady and not to be trusted.

“Foggy,” Matt interrupts, inspired.

“Uh huh?” Foggy asks.

“I think I’m going to head out,” he says. “Do you want to walk with me?”

“Think I’m gonna stick around and finish this beer,” Foggy says, patting him on the shoulder. “If you’re good to make it on your own.”

“Oh,” Matt says.

On second thought.

He stays where he is while they keep talking, worrying at the label on his beer until it peels off and drifts to the floor. He’s tempted to just actually leave when Scott laughs particularly long and hard at one of Foggy’s jokes that Matt doesn’t get at all.

One of Matt’s hand’s curls around the bottle again. 

The other drops down onto Foggy’s knee. 

Foggy makes a surprised noise and turns towards him, shoulder brushing up against Matt. Matt just raises his eyebrows. 

“You want something? Another drink?” Foggy asks. 

“No, I’m fine,” Matt says, serenely. 

When Foggy turns back to his conversation, Matt lets his hand slide up further, his fingers finding the seam of Foggy’s jeans and following them slowly up the inside of his thigh so he can hear the small gasping noise that Foggy makes as he goes still and quiet. Matt’s hand keeps moving. Foggy laughs low in his throat.

Right before Matt’s fingers make their way anywhere that could get them taken in for public indecency, Foggy says, abruptly, “Well, Scott, pal, I think we’re heading out, good luck surviving the rest of this season,” then grabs Matt by the arm and drags him out of the door.  

“You could have just told me that you were bored,” Foggy says. “I know TV’s not exactly your medium.” 

“I didn’t want to tear you away from your new friend,” Matt says, and Foggy stops. 

“Murdock,” he says. “You’re _jealous_.” 

“Jealous?” Matt repeats, smiling and calmly looping his arm through Foggy’s to lead him into the alley beside Josie’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You’re jealous that I’m going to seduce another dude with my encyclopedic knowledge of fantasy television shows!” Foggy says, laughing and clinging to his shoulder as they walk. “ _Matty_. That’s so cute.” 

Matt swallows Foggy’s laugh by pushing him up against the wall and kissing him with intent, one hand cupping his cheek and the other pinning Foggy at his shoulder. When they break the kiss, both of them gasping for breath while Foggy’s arching up against the knee that Matt has insinuated between his legs, Matt turns his head to rub his nose against Foggy’s cheek. 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Foggy says, low and happy, squirming enough that he can turn it into a hug, wrapping his arms around Matt. “I’m yours, right?” 

“Yeah,” Matt echoes, feeling a little wild. “You’re mine.” 

“Let’s go back to your place and I’ll prove it to you,” Foggy says. 

“Why not right here?” Matt asks.

“Because we’re good and upright citizens,” Foggy replies.

“Oh, sure,” Matt says, laughing. 

“And,” Foggy continues, kissing him one more time before he leads Matt back towards the street, “the last time we got indiscreet in an alley, I threw my damn back out. Beds from now on! That’s my motto.” 

“And sometimes couches,” Matt says, pulling Foggy close so they’re walking shoulder to shoulder. 

“The occasional floor,” Foggy agrees. 

“The kitchen table,” Matt says, smiling. 

“Only on special occasions,” Foggy replies. 

“Tonight’s feeling pretty special.” 

Foggy turns enough to kiss him on the cheek before he leads Matt on. 

“You know what?” he says, swinging their arms gently. “It is.” 


	3. “wow i did not know that was A Thing for me until right now and i’m totally fine with that but for the love of god keep doing it”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Give it back,” Matt says.
> 
> “Nope,” Foggy replies. “I’m keeping your keys, you’re too drunk to drive.”
> 
> He’s standing on Matt’s sofa with his mask held above his head, like an adult would do in this situation, an adult who’s trying to keep his idiot best friend from going out and foiling the evil plans of ne’er-do-wells while intoxicated and still dressed in sweatpants and a big sweater he stole from Foggy sometime in undergrad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hair pulling!

“Give it back,” Matt says.

“Nope,” Foggy replies. “I’m keeping your keys, you’re too drunk to drive.”

He’s standing on Matt’s sofa with his mask held above his head, like an adult would do in this situation, an adult who’s trying to keep his idiot best friend from going out and foiling the evil plans of ne’er-do-wells while intoxicated and still dressed in sweatpants and a big sweater he stole from Foggy sometime in undergrad.

“I don’t think that metaphor holds,” Matt says, standing in front of Foggy with his arms folded.

“Don’t drink and fight,” Foggy says. He’s kind of having fun now, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just say no.”

Matt taps his foot.

“My third grade teacher used to do that when she wanted me to shut up,” Foggy says.  

“Did it work?” Matt asks.

“What do you think– _shit!_ ”

Matt kind of launches himself at Foggy, jumping up onto the sofa and getting an arm around him and grabbing for the mask. Foggy bursts out laughing and throws the mask across the room,  grapples Matt until they collapse together on the sofa. Matt’s all angles and bones on top of him, breath smelling strongly of whiskey and cinnamon.  

He gets his knee in Matt’s stomach and Matt gets a hand shoved in his face, which Foggy, who was not a tragic only child, proceeds to lick as thoroughly as he can before Matt laughs and says, “ _Ugh_ ,” and shoves his wet hand into Foggy’s hair.

Foggy’s about to make fun of him for pulling his pigtails when Matt literally does that, tugs a little at Foggy’s hair. It surprises a noise out of Foggy, a gasping moan that makes Matt goes still on top of him, fingers still in his hair, warm slick palm pressed up against his cheek.

“Uhm,” he says.

“Uhm,” Foggy echoes.

His drunk brain catches up with his body pretty quickly, with Matt’s knee shoved between his legs and Matt’s hand pinning his shoulder down and Matt’s fingers in his hair. Matt’s cheeks are pink, his mouth parted and wet.

“Matt,” Foggy says, doesn’t mean to whisper it but his voice isn’t cooperating right now. Matt’s face looks tense for a moment before he tightens his fingers a little closer to Foggy’s scalp and pulls, and Foggy bucks his hips up a little, swearing softly before Matt ducks down and pulls him into a messy kiss.

As far as first kisses go, Foggy’s had technically better ones–but this one still manages to blow the rest out of the water. 

“Matty,” he says, wrapping his arms around Matt to keep him close when Matt breaks the kiss and starts to sit up again, pretty face looking all nervous like maybe he’s going to try to bolt. “You should’ve told me that this was the trick to keeping you around, I would have sacrificed my virtue sooner.” 

Matt smiles.

“Do you really have any left to sacrifice?” he asks. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Foggy says, warmly, rocking up against Matt’s knee. “Let’s find out.” 

Matt kisses him again enthusiastically, and Foggy kisses back, spreading his legs as much as possible to give Matt more room. 

“Whatever you want,” Matt murmurs, when he breaks the kiss again, turning to press his lips to Foggy’s cheek.

“That’s a dangerous precedent to set, Murdock,” Foggy says.

“I’m willing to risk it,” Matt replies, a quick little flashing grin that makes something stupid light up in Foggy’s stomach. 

He sits up and Matt moves to let him, looking roughed up and happy, but not as happy as he looks when Foggy kisses him once on the mouth before he slides down to kneel in front of him. 

“That’s what you want?” Matt asks, going even pinker. 

“Yep,” Foggy says. “Are you cool with that?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt says, laughing softly. “I’m cool with that.” 

“Thought so,” Foggy says, moving to pull Matt’s sweats down, murmuring, “Lift up,” and dropping a kiss on Matt’s bare knee when he complies. 

“Fog,” Matt murmurs, hand hesitating in the air above Foggy’s hand.

“Yeah, absolutely touch my hair right now,” Foggy says, leaning down to lick around the head of Matt’s dick, smiling when Matt’s fingers immediately sink into his hair again.

“You like that?” Matt asks.

“App _arently,_ ” Foggy says, laughing around a moan when Matt tightens his fingers and tugs him forward a little. He takes Matt in his mouth and makes a low pleased noise when Matt pulls his head down gently, makes him take more. 

He lets Matt guide his head with slow, careful motions, licking around him because it makes Matt say soft obscene things about his mouth, makes him say Foggy’s name in a completely new way. 

He slides a hand up Matt’s thigh and pulls off to say, “I feel weird about saying this because we’re bros and all, but you can just, like, come wherever. Dealer’s choice.” 

Matt laughs, carding his fingers through Foggy’s hair. 

“That’s sweet,” he says. 

Foggy turns to press a kiss to Matt’s palm before he ducks back down again, making another happy affirmative noise when Matt starts to fuck his face again, gently, rocking his hips up at the same time as he tugs on Foggy’s hair. When Matt comes, he stutters out Foggy’s name and pulls him in a little rougher, and Foggy swallows around him and immediately pulls off to gasp for air when Matt’s done. 

“See?” he says, hoarsely, patting Matt’s thigh and wiping off his mouth with his sleeve. “Isn’t that better than punching a criminal in the face?” 

Matt laughs again and reaches down to grab Foggy’s hand and pull him up, so Foggy crawls in his lap and into a kiss. 

“You’ve always been better than that,” he says, softly, and Foggy feels his cheeks heat up. He nudges their foreheads together, and Matt smooths big hands over his back. 

“Should’ve told me before,” Foggy says, again, more seriously this time.

Matt’s hand slides down to rest on Foggy’s ass.

“’m telling you now,” he says, smiling, and Foggy squirms to get closer, so he can lean his whole weight against Matt and push him against the back of the sofa. Matt wraps his arms around him, slips a hand back into Foggy’s hair.

Foggy kisses his neck.

“Anything you want, Matt,” he murmurs, against his skin. 

“A dangerous precedent, Nelson,” Matt says, just like he was saying Foggy’s name before, a whole new voice. 

Matt tugs at Foggy’s hair to pull his neck back and catch his mouth in another kiss, so Foggy’s voice is breathless when he gasps, “Willing to risk it.”  


End file.
